Five Times Blanche Considers Leaving 165 Eaton Place
by Elennare
Summary: (And One Time She's Determined To Stay). "Despite her insistence that she likes it at Eaton Place, Blanche wonders at first if she should leave."


**(1)**

Despite her insistence that she likes it at Eaton Place, Blanche wonders at first if she should leave. After all, she can afford to rent rooms, and she could curate the British Museum transfers just as well from somewhere else. Perhaps it would even be easier, without so many people around.

Maud's possessions, though, aren't going to sort themselves, and it's clear no-one else has the slightest intention of looking through them. If she left it to Hallam and Mr Amanjit, the rooms would probably stay exactly as they were, a morbid shrine. Well, Maud would never have put up with that, Blanche is sure, and she doesn't intend to either. If she has to do the job herself to see it done right, so be it! Pamela can take part if she wants to, and it will help her to mourn her mother. Yes, Blanche decides, she owes it to her sister and her niece.

If she also derives a certain wicked satisfaction from thwarting the men, all the better, so far as she's concerned.

**(2)**

Looking over what still remains to be sorted of Maud's journals and letters, Blanche is surprised by how little is left to be done. Surprised, and relieved; now she'll finally be free to devote her full attention to her work at the museum. Perhaps she could even go out to Egypt again, get involved in an excavation… Suddenly, she feels an intense longing for scorching deserts and dusty pyramids.

_The thrill when careful, patient digging unearths something buried in the sand… bringing out into the daylight objects that have been hidden in ancient tombs for centuries… sunlight glinting on red hair…_The last image slips into her mind unbidden, and jolts her back to reality. No, not that. That's gone, long gone. But surely the rest is enough?

She shakes her head impatiently, dismissing her thoughts. She may be coming to the end of her her sister's belongings, but they're not finished yet. These letters aren't going to file themselves. Returning to her work, she shelves for later her daydreams, unaware that war is swiftly approaching to change everyone's plans.

**(3)**

When Hallam wants Blanche to leave, after the publication of The Golden Blaze and the subsequent scandal, she very nearly obliges him by storming out. Being judged because of who she loves... It's her father all over again, except her father never found out about her. She's always wondered if he suspected, though; if that was the reason for his horrifying lectures. _Hallam would probably like to horsewhip me too, if he dared_, she thinks furiously, _for having the nerve to tarnish his oh-so-precious perfect reputation_.

She knows that's probably unfair to him, but right now she doesn't really care. He's hardly being entirely fair himself, after all, blaming her for the stir that Portia's book has caused. Though she tries not to show it, it hurts bitterly that her nephew could treat her so, and she's tempted to leave. _I could go to Portia_, she thinks, and the idea is deeply compelling… but the years, and the scars they have left, have made her cautious.

Also, she's touched by Agnes's defence of her. If she'd sided with Hallam, Blanche would have walked out without looking back (she ignores the voice in the back of her mind suggesting she might not have had a choice), but Agnes spoke for her, so she stays for the time being.

**(4)**

If she has to attend another dinner party, Blanche feels she'll scream. She knows Agnes means well, is trying to help her and show her support - that's the only reason she goes - but she can't bear it. Can't stand the whispers, the smirks, the sideways looks, the people who draw away ever so slightly from her as if they fear she'll contaminate them. She hates this high society, the society that _she_ belongs to, that _she_ chose over Blanche.

If she left, she could get away from this. Oh, she has no illusions that others would be more accepting - she's been insulted on the street, had people scorn her in the museum - but it would be so much easier to escape, to ignore. At least she wouldn't have to face it in her own home, wouldn't be expected to smile politely at people she's longing to throttle.

But there's her work, which would be much harder without Mr Amanjit always at hand. Mr Amanjit himself, who looks at her with the quiet sympathy of one who is also an outsider. The children, who've grown fond of Aunt Blanche. Agnes, so kind and supportive, always ready to be a shoulder to cry on (and she's needed one, more than once). Can she really leave it all?

**(5)**

Blanche's first instinct, when Hallam suggests the cracks in his marriage are her fault, is to scoff at him. She didn't introduce Agnes to Casper Landry, did she? Hallam did. Hallam ignored Agnes completely, even when she asked to hear about his work - though perhaps that's not his fault alone; Agnes has confessed how in earlier years she was too absorbed in herself and her pregnancy to pay him attention.

Still, Blanche can't see how she could be to blame. But she wants them to be happy, and perhaps it is a strain on their relationship to have her always with them (even then, she thinks that Persie must be a far greater one). Her recently broken heart, too, commiserates with her nephew, not yet aware that so far as comparisons can be made he is playing Portia's role, while her part falls to Agnes.

So she jumps at the chance to visit the refugee children in Norfolk, thinking she'll be better able to judge the situation once Hallam and Agnes have had some time together without her. Later, she hates herself for it. If she'd been there, perhaps she'd have noticed what Hallam and Persie were doing, have been able to stop it, or at least to break it to Agnes more gently. But she doesn't know, so she goes.

**(I)**

_"You will stay, won't you? For Agnes's sake, if not for mine?"  
"I was rather planning on it. I've joined the Fire Brigade."_

It's the closest she'll ever get to an apology from Hallam, she knows. It's none too soon, either, after the number of times he's suggested she leave. And Blanche appreciates that he's asking, but he's not why she's staying. He may be her only nephew, but she can't forgive what he's done. Can't forgive his hypocrisy - he, who was always so furious at the mere hint of a scandal, having such an affair! Can't forgive how he's broken Agnes' heart.

She's not really staying for the Fire Brigade, either. She doesn't have to be living at Eaton Place for that, she could join it anywhere. She doesn't even _have_ to be here for her work with the refugee children, though it is more convenient. That's not why she's staying.

She's staying for Agnes. For her friend who's grieving not only her sister's death but the betrayal of the two people she trusted the most. Agnes who was her unfailing comfort in the aftermath of that mess with Portia, who supported her even against Hallam, who needs her now. Blanche is staying for her.


End file.
